i pull into the cul-de-sac
engine rumbling and rattling
decades old plastic and metal
moan in protest.
the car shudders once,
before going still.
you’re already in motion,
handing me gold and green.
a sniff from the source,
garners an astonished blink and wry smile.
i reach out, hands pressed to the vents,
hot air stings my chilled digits.
absentmindedly i bob along to the melody reverberating,
the metronome of synthesized bass marks seconds ticking by
seat cranked two notches,
you fill the base, water kissing the down stem
in a sensual embrace.
instinctively my wrist twists
metal teeth grinding down
milling verdant flowerets.
with a rubbery pop the passenger door opens
frigid midwestern air rushes in,
and just as quickly,
you’re here.
a flick of the thumb commences,
our age-old tradition.
a primordial beast awakened.
soft orange leaps, igniting bits of bud.
lips ready, i suck deep and harsh
we’re giddy, eyes drinking in the rose-tinted world
childlike excitement bursting through our chests.
speaking carefully, scraping the surface.
savoring our time before the deep dive.
and opaque white fills the chamber
like an accordion: expansion and depression.
plumes ooze from flared nostrils
a cloud forms, low and striated,
shades of grey and white swirling.
an atmosphere of our own creation.
we’re on the hunt, cruising our Marauder’s map
so many places to choose from:
a semi seedy apartment complex,
a neighborhood tucked in for the night,
or a quiet business with little traffic.
my mind settles into a pleasant hum.
limbs stretched to capacity,
eyelids hang at half-mast.
our mouths both wet and dry
we grin, crippled by laughter.
red rimmed eyes crinkled in delight
somewhere public but not too public.
a few orange yellow lampposts hang low,
other vehicles rest in neat lines,
a perfect location to disappear and be seen.
every nonessential idea born in our mind,
revered and celebrated
no attention paid to finesse or foresight
a utopia
it’s in these quiet moments
2am with glitter falling from the sky,
that roots take hold.